


On Thunder and Memories of Times Past

by Luminescence



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: F/M, Ghost!AU, OOC I'M SORRY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2013-09-03
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:51:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luminescence/pseuds/Luminescence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Byakuya Togami never expected to fall in love with a ghost when he bought the old Victorian-styled house, and he certainly did not expect the object of his affections to abruptly disappear one night. In response to one of <a href="http://chillpunk.tumblr.com/post/60151642754">chillpunk</a>'s ghost!AU prompts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On Thunder and Memories of Times Past

"A storm is approaching," Byakuya declared from beside the window sill, unaware that his companion was not listening. She had tuned everything out after 'storm'. His pale eyes travelled from the darkening clouds gathering outside to the girl sitting in his lounge. No, not a girl— a ghost. Kyouko's gaze was fixed on the book lying on her lap, smokey fingers gently touching the edges, as he sat next to her and rather awkwardly wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She didn't move. Neither was she young, as her looks suggested, for she had died over a century ago, and seen families come and go in that very same house for just as long.

She would have once been the lady of the Kirigiri house, she realised. Ever since she awoke to the sight of her crying mother sitting by her side in what used to be her bedchamber, Kyouko had procured not to think too much of the life she had left behind. She did not think of her mother's gentle touch as she stroked the cold, lifeless hand held between her own, did not think of her warm embrace or the funny way her voice resounded against the brick walls every time she sang. She did not think of the calming yet joyous feeling that singing alongside her mother gave her, or of the many times they had read to each other in the intimacy of her drawing room. She did not think of her mother's lectures on household managing as the servants rose up just before dawn and, with them, the house itself; and definitely not about how it would have once been her commanding them, being in charge, or how proud it would have made her mother.

Kyouko remembered her heart breaking when her mother had decided to move out; however, she also remembered the relief that washed over her, knowing the person she had loved the most in life would be finally moving on. That night, a storm had struck. Just like—

Crash.

Just like now.

The weight of the young man's arm fell onto the soft mattress of the couch as soon as the first thunderbolt was heard. Startled, Byakuya's blond head jerked back and forth in all directions, with the energy of a twenty-year-old man bereft of his love, fruitlessly trying to locate his purple-haired resident. He searched the house in a hurry. What had happened? Where had she gone? Was she feeling lonely, scared? Thoughts of his childhood flashed through his mind: the lonely nights spent reading to himself in his bedroom, the extensive hours of private lessons his parents had paid for him, the empty dining room that he thought too big for him alone. This could not be occurring. She couldn't, she couldn't have— No. He would not think, would not _admit_ that possibility. He had to find her.

She wasn't in any of the bedrooms, not in his or his sitting room, nor in any of the unused guest rooms; not in any of the bathrooms in either floor; not in the lobby, dining room, study, music room, library, kitchen, or recreation room. When he traced the whole house without having found her, he looked all over again. He even looked in the old servants' quarters, the butler's pantry, the scullery, the long-ago main dining room —all the rooms no longer used, but that were all the same remnants of the house's past glory— only to find himself back where he had started.

Exasperated, he kicked the nearest armchair, not caring about the antiquity or value of the furniture. His vision blurred. "Shit," his breath was shaken, irregular. The girl couldn't just _disappear_! _Kyouko_ couldn't just disappear! Not her, not now. In that state of desperation, it didn't take him long to spot an ancient-looking door he had overlooked in his initial search. It had been designed to blend into the walls of the lounge, as it seemed. He extended a hand to fix his white glasses into place. Luckily, Byakuya's senses were sharper under pressure. He hurried to it, turned the door's handle and, unlike he did with all the other doors he had opened that night, slowly pushed forward, so as not to alarm Kyouko, who would surely —must surely— be inside.

True to his expectations, she was.

Crouching near a corner, hands clasped against both sides of her head, violet eyes shut tight, the trembling figure of Kyouko Kirigiri's ghost greeted him. Were he to be asked, he wouldn't have been able to express into words the ease he felt at that moment. Frankly speaking, the feelings this apparition had sprouted in him were all hard to express for the heir of the Togami Conglomerate. Yet the grief that accompanied that ease was awfully overwhelming, and his feet soon unconsciously started stepping towards her. He lowered his body enough to be able to embrace her, letting the hems of his dark suit fall to the ground. His left arm surrounded her slim waist, while his other hand went to softly stroke her hair.

Byakuya Togami never expected to fall in love with a ghost when he bought the old Victorian-styled house, and he certainly did not expect the object of his affections to abruptly disappear one night. However, exploring his memories was not the most pressing issue at hand, and so he figured that could wait.


End file.
